


Lease, Laundry, and Love

by MegaKlaine



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 03:01:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15854877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegaKlaine/pseuds/MegaKlaine
Summary: Blaine and Kurt, two strangers looking for a new place run into each other at one laundromat. What will develop? Loads of white, colours, and love.





	1. Current Apartment: 3 bedroom, 1 bathroom loft w. amenities $5000/month.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mailroomorder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mailroomorder/gifts).



> To mailroomorder, thank you for the amazing prompt and I hope you're okay with how I ran with it.  
> The 2500 world limit quickly became over 9000
> 
> Thank you, Klaine fic exchange from dragging this writer out of the ashes and into the fire. It's been a while since I last posted on here and it feels good to be writing once more.
> 
> Last, but certainly not least. a HUGE thank you to my beta, slayedeist, whithout whom this would still be an idea scrawled on pages and not the fine fic you'll read.

Kurt was ready to move out. He initially loved his living situation in New York. The three-bedroom loft was massive, with plenty of room for him and his two good friends. The place was decently located, near to bus routes and a corner store grocery. Despite having little insulation – making for cold winters and hot summers, the place had been his New York dream. That was until recently. Kurt could no longer endure living with his roommates.

S antana and Rachel were fine, sometimes too loud and overbearing, but for the most part they weren't the worst roommates in the world. Kurt had considered himself lucky. He could live with the two women, despite Rachel’s 5 a.m.  shower songs and Santana dragging in a new girl every weekend. They’d known each other forever and he enjoyed their company.

No, the five roommates Kurt was tired of and desperately wanted to get away from were Glinda, Elphaba, Fiyero, Dorothy, and Toto.

It all started three weeks ago, with Glinda. Rachel and Kurt were in the kitchen, where Kurt was still nursing his first cup of coffee as Rachel rattled on about her role in a new up-and-coming off Broadway show, when suddenly they both heard Santana scream. Cursing in Spanish, towel haphazardly wrapped around her, Santana had come out of the bathroom, pointing and yelling:

“ _ Mouse! _ ”

Kurt called the landlord right away. The landlord promised to call an exterminator, but when no one showed up after a week they had to take matters into their own hands.

Rachel begged them to use live traps, so they tried for the first month. Trying to catch the mice alive was going poorly. The sound of mice skittering around their home eventually doubled, along with the trails of mouse droppings scattered around the apartment; at night they could hear the squeaking within the walls, and in the morning there would be another empty trap, but more traces of their four-legged roommates activities. Santana put her foot down and she and Kurt went to the hardware store, returning with bags full of mouse traps, peanut butter, and cleaning supplies to an angry Rachel, shaking her head.

“This is animal cruelty!”

They set the traps anyway.

Each morning Kurt would wake and check the traps, pulling on a pair of gloves to dispose of the dead mouse and trap. Then he’d set up new traps, strategically placing them around the apartment. After three weeks he’d carried five mouse corpses to the trash bin in the alley next to their apartment. Despite delivering body after body to the bin, there was always evidence of more mice. When he called to complain to the landlord again, and the landlord still refused to call pest-control, Kurt decided that as much as he was getting good at his new morning routine, it was time to move out.

Rachel managed to grab an apartment in the (allegedly – Kurt wasn’t sure he believed it) mouse free building next door, and Santana seemed content moving in with her girlfriend. That left Kurt to house hunt on his own.

He’d taken to spending extra time at the laundromat, bristling at the thought of having to go back to the mice infested apartment. He enjoyed the cleanliness of the laundromat and the relative quiet that surrounded him while he was there.  He found he could spend hours in the laundromat, scrolling through apartment lisitngs as he waited for his clothes to finish their wash cycle.


	2. Apartment For Rent: In the center of “the Village” $2795/1 bedroom, 1 bathroom

To the untrained eye this apartment would look amazing. It was a simple apartment with a shoebox sized bedroom, painted in an off white with a brand new bed located right against the wall with only just enough room to stand beside it. It had a kitchen that was fitted with a stove, oven, and fridge. Then, on top of being in a great location, it also included living space - actual living space with enough room for a couch and a table. The apartment, overpriced like every New York apartment, appeared  above and beyond most expectations.

To Kurt, who was critiquing the apartment as a possible future residence, it was obvious that despite the advertisement listing the apartment as being in “good condition” the photos in the listing showed it was anything but. The air conditioner was covered in dust, and the filter was hanging off. The kitchen stove looked as ancient as the building itself, and the dark stains on the carpet made him sigh and shake his head. It didn’t matter. It was too expensive for him to live in by himself anyway.

On top of that, the joys of living in New York were starting to wear thin. Kurt loved his job at Vogue and he loved going to NYADA, but all the things that were hard about living in the big city were starting to get to him. He hated his morning commute, between the grime on the subway, and the filth that cluttered the streets of an over-populated city. Even the World Trade Center was overrun with tourists, most had travelled far distances to pay their respects and look at the memorial. However, sometimes the people swarming over the area all the time felt like gawkers. Kurt would occasionally have to dodge around large tourist packs with cameras and selfie sticks before making it into his office. He felt like needed a shower by the time he got to the office.

He hated the loud neighbours located above the loft, their constant late night yelling and early morning vacuuming. Kurt hated the hair that clogged up the shower drain, and the fact that despite having short hair, he was always the one that ended up having to unclog the drain when the shower started to flood. Maybe in a new apartment he might be able to fix some of his problems. Kurt sighed.  

Kurt had just pulled up another listing on his phone when a voice interrupted him.

“Excuse me? I think your clothes have just finished their cycle. Could I use your machine, please?”

Kurt lifted his eyes from his phone and noticed two things. First, the laundromat he had been sitting in that had been empty when he arrived had become increasingly busy; each washing machine was in use, and his clothes had definitely been sitting in the machine long enough to earn Kurt a few glares from waiting customers.

Second, the man asking for his machine was cute and dressed impeccably well for doing laundry. He wore bright red jeans and a cardigan that hugged his body in a way that drew Kurt’s attention to his broad chest and muscular arms. Yes, the stranger asking for his machine was a cute, well-dressed man. Kurt swallowed, realizing the awkward pause he had created from checking out Mr. Can-I-Use-Your-Washer seemed a little rude, so he smiled and stood up.

“Of course, I’m sorry. Let me just move my clothes over.” Kurt smiled, opening up the washing machine lid, taking out an armful of his load before realizing that with his arms full of laundry there was no way to open the dryer. Kurt fumbled with the handle of the dryer opposite the washer he had used, grunting as he almost dropped his newly cleaned clothes.

“Here, let me get that for you,” Mr. Can-I-Use-Your-Washer offered, showing his gentlemanly manners as he opened the dryer door, and waited patiently as Kurt stuffed all of his clothes inside.

“Thank you, ” Kurt answered. He appreciated the man not rushing him regardless of the stares from other less-tolerant laundromat patrons.

“No, thank you. It’s become a dog-eat-dog world out here for laundry. That old lady nearly bowled me over when I went to the other machine.” Mr. Can-I-Use-Your-Washer pointed at an old lady, who was reading a book on a chair, one hand protectively on her preferred machine. Kurt couldn’t help but laugh. He was a regular at this laundromat, and he knew the more interesting characters that would frequently visit.

“That’s Mrs. Cravits. She’s very picky about what machine she uses. Swears blindly it is the best washer in the building,” Kurt said, grabbing the last armful of his laundry from the washing machine. “You win her over by offering her any baked goods.” Kurt winked, stepping aside with the wet clothes towards his dryer. “Alright, it’s all yours.”

“Thank you very much.” Mr. Can-I-Use-Your-Washer smiled at Kurt before Kurt turned around to feed coins into the machine. The stranger was cute, had good manners, and Kurt realized he wanted to get to know a little more about the new face. Steeling himself, he turned around to ask him his name but he was gone. The mystery man was nowhere in sight, but his washing machine light was on, the washer already running.


	3. Room For Rent: Large and spacious $950/ 1 bed, shared bath

Blaine’s first year in New York had been an eye-opening experience. He’d gotten accepted into Tisch with a full ride scholarship and moved into one of the residences at New York University. NYU advertised them as welcoming places that encouraged learning and socializing with likeminded students. That may have been true for some students, but somehow Blaine was saddled with three of the least studious boys he’d ever met in his life. They were nothing like the students at Dalton – who were all clean and quiet and well behaved.

The scenes from most university themed movies seemed tame compared to his real life experiences in the dorm. Blaine’s suite-mates spent every Friday and Saturday night throwing rowdy room-parties; benders that resulted in 2am dorm security checks. Blaine would show up after classes to pick up his books, and one of his roommates would shout

“It’ll be the best Friday night ever!”

As much as Blaine loved Katy Perry, he was not a fan of living in a situation that resembled  her music video for “Last Friday Night,” so Blaine would head directly to the library At least it was open 24 hours, and no one minded if he slept in one of the study rooms. After all, it was one of the only ways to keep his grades high enough to retain his scholarship.

He woke most Sunday mornings to beer cans scattered around the suite, along with half-eaten pizzas, and clothing no one could remember the owner of. The inevitable hangovers that his three roommates suffered would be accompanied by their unpleasant attitudes and unwillingness to help Blaine deal with the mess. It was disgusting. Living in the dorms for the first year of school had certainly been an interesting experience, one Blaine did not want for his second year.

To escape, Blaine packed up and moved all of his belongings back to Ohio for the summer. He took a summer job back home in Westerville and enjoyed the freedom of not having terrible roommates. Despite the much needed break from school and the rowdy roommates, it left him stranded miles away from New York and unable to look for a new apartment. Blaine had left his apartment search until late August, and now he needed to find a place to live, stat.

Blaine heard from other friends how difficult it could be to find an apartment in New York, but the reality was even worse. He called about dozens of apartments, but each listing ended with no response from the landlords or their agents. After exhausting all of the apartment listings he could find online, and the ones he could afford on the living allowance his parents gave him, Blaine ended up looking on Craigslist. He eventually found a “Roommate Wanted” ad that didn’t look too terrible and filled out the application. He didn’t  have any other options left. If he didn’t get this apartment he’d be moving back to New York homeless.

Blaine woke the next day to an email telling him he had a place to live. He had been lucky to find a place so quickly on such short notice. The rent was affordable, the place was in prime location, and everything seemed like a great start to his second year.

At first Blaine’s new roommate, Travis, seemed like a great, relaxed guy compared to Blaine’s previous troublesome suite-mates. Travis was a quiet reclusive guy, staying mostly in his bedroom, preferring the hours of a night-owl. It was a stark difference to the party roommates of first year. Blaine barely saw Travis, and was able to study at home instead of the library. The change was wonderful.

But as the months went by it became clear that there was something not normal about his roommate.Yes,Travis looked and seemed like a normal, regular guy, but Blaine suspected that he wasn’t actually human at all. Travis seemed more like a gremlin. For the most part his roommate survived on cereal, ramen, and Hot Pockets. He didn’t do any cleaning; he left empty food wrappers on the floor, unclean bowls piled high in the sink, and rotting milk in the fridge. Blaine took on the responsibility of keeping the house clean for the both of them, but it was a hard job to keep up with his filthy roommate.

It wasn’t just the mess of the house that made Blaine believe his roommate was a gremlin; it was the complete and utter lack of basic human hygiene. His roommate only showered once a week as far as Blaine was aware. Travis barely did laundry, and did not own a toothbrush that Blaine could see. The smell from his roommate’s bedroom that wafted into the hallway at times was enough to make Blaine gag. But Blaine could live with that. Yes, his roommate was unclean and smelled bad, but that was liveable. He invested in even more cleaning supplies, scented candles, and a small fan to keep air circulation. He needed a place to live, and that made it bearable for a while.

Blaine’s tipping point came four months later. Blaine came home from school one afternoon and found the house smelled particularly bad. After doing a thorough search of the house and not finding anything - no rotting food, no dead bodies, no forgotten milk – the only place left to investigate was Travis’s room. He really didn’t want to, but his roommate’s jacket was gone from the hook, usually a sign of him being out of the house.  Blaine knocked on his roommate's door and slowly opened it…

…and was immediately knocked back by the stench. There, in the middle of the room, stripped of its covers and sheets, was a mattress covered in black mold. Blaine gagged and slammed the door shut. He rushed to his room, grabbed everything he hadn’t washed in the last three days including his own bed sheets, and headed to the laundromat. His roommate slept on a mattress of mold, and by the state of the bed, had been doing so for a very long time.

It was in the overly busy laundromat where Blaine had time to regret all the decisions that had led him to this moment in time. He was living with a gremlin. Who slept in mold.

Attempting to distract himself from reality, Blaine struck up a conversation with a handsome stranger. The kind man had been nothing but friendly and accommodating, and he was cute to boot. After some light conversation, Blaine fit all of his clothes in the washing machine and dropped enough coins in the slot to get it started. He was hoping that spending the afternoon chatting with the cute guy would scrub his mind of the horror site he had witnessed at home, when he got a text from his roommate:

“ _ Emergency at home. _ ”

Blaine turned on his heels and rushed out of the laundromat, only realising when he arrived home that he had barely thanked the handsome man who had emptied the machine for him.


	4. Apartment For Rent: Duplex for 2. Large bedrooms, roof deck, laundry in unit. $3300 Utilities not included

It had been perfect. Kurt could hardly believe it, but finally, 8 weeks after Glinda had entered his apartment and his life he had found a new place to live. It was a perfect unit, with a cute living space, an office with ample room for a sewing machine, a renovated kitchen and bathroom, plus a second bedroom. Absolutely perfect, and despite being out of his budget Kurt had decided to go and view it anyway. He was in love. He had stupidly fallen in love with an apartment he would never be able to afford on his own. Kurt sighed as he sat waiting for his laundry, head resting on his hand. Why couldn’t life make things easy once in a while?

“Is everything okay?” A voice asked, shaking Kurt from his thoughts. He looked up to see Mr. Can-I-Use-Your-Washer from a few weeks ago approaching apprehensively. “I noticed you sitting here and thought I’d come over. I know I’m in no place to ask, but I ran off last time without properly thanking you, my roommate claimed to have an emergency but he’d really only lost the TV remote in his own filth. So, thank you. The laundromat has a vending machine so I figured, hey, I’ll go and make amends and offer you chocolate and ask your name, but if you’re having a rough day, maybe it’ll help out even more?” The words came out all in one rushed breath – almost nervous, but the man finally paused and sat beside Kurt, offering him a cookies and cream chocolate bar.

“Thank you,” Kurt said softly, taking the chocolate bar. “And no, everything’s not okay. I fell in love with an apartment I’ll never be able to afford.” Kurt sighed, frustrated. “All of my friends are happy in their living arrangements but me, and this place – this place is perfect. But I really don’t want to take the risk of finding a stranger for a roommate in New York. I’m a pretty confident New Yorker, but it’s a risk I am not taking.” Kurt rambled on about the kitchen and the living room. The spacious office and two bedrooms. The appliances and the furniture.

“It is perfect. Except for the huge problem of I can’t afford to live there alone.” Kurt huffed, opening the chocolate bar, breaking off a piece and offering it to the man sitting beside him. “I’m sorry, I’m being awfully rude. I’m Kurt.”

“Oh, don’t be sorry. I am currently living with a nightmare of a roommate myself, and that place sounds like a dream. I’m Blaine. Blaine Anderson.” Blaine smiled, taking the piece of chocolate and taking a small bite. “You know,” he said, “I’ve been looking to move out of my living situation.” Kurt’s eyes snapped towards Blaine,

“Oh?” He deadpanned. “Am I about to be killed by a psycho I met at the laundromat?” Kurt teased, but as soon as he saw the confusion on Blaine’s face something inside of him changed. 

“No! No. I’m sorry. I’ll just -” Blaine went to stand up, but Kurt quickly grabbed his wrist. He didn’t want this stranger to think he was rude.

“I’m sorry. I should give you a chance to speak. I was only joking – I do that sometimes, and apparently I’m not as funny as I think I am.” Blaine sat back down. “You said you have been looking to move out?” He pressed softly, his hand slowly releasing his grip on Blaine’s arm. Kurt turned to look at the man beside him.

“I-uh, yeah. I have been living with a really, really bad roommate the last four months,” Blaine said. Kurt grimaced in empathy, listening as Blaine told him the story of his living situation. “And you’re right,” Blaine concluded. “It’s a terrible lottery when you move in with someone who you don’t know, and I lost. I’m so sick and tired of living with him.” Blaine rubbed his temple, then looked at Kurt. “Why don’t we get coffee?” Blaine blurted out,  

Kurt raised his eyebrow, looking at Blaine, a little surprised by the outburst. Did this man just ask him out?

“What?”

“Why don’t we go grab a coffee?” Blaine repeated, smiling this time. Kurt looked the man up and down. Yes, he was attractive, and cute, and had bought him chocolate. It was not unusual for Kurt Hummel to have the occasional man flirt with him or ask him out. However, being asked out in the laundromat by a stranger was definitely a first. Looking at Blaine again, Kurt’s gaydar suddenly caught up with the question.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” Kurt asked, with the answer in his head was already on the tip of his tongue when Blaine quickly shook his head.

“No! No, think of it like a roommate application process?” Blaine begged. “If you go out for coffee with me and hate me, or think I’m psycho, then there's nothing lost. But I need a new place to live, and I can prove I’m not crazy. I’m a clean, responsible, well rounded person. And not a psycho killer,” Blaine said. “Let me convince you that I’m a decent person, and a potential roommate. I’d be interested in seeing this perfect place you found, and maybe being your new roommate. After all, Kurt, I am no longer some random New York stranger.” Blaine pointed to the candy. “I bought you chocolate.”

Kurt was taken aback, but he laughed. This man was serious. Serious about moving in with him, despite the fact they both barely knew each other. The man was serious, and had very good points. Blaine seemed genuinely interested in what he was saying, and in the apartment he described. Stranger things had happened to Kurt since moving to New York. Really, there was nothing to lose by giving Blaine a chance.

“And how do you know that I’ll be better than your current roommate?” Kurt asked. Blaine had so far seemed normal; he seemed nice, kind, and genuine. It was better than living with enough mice to fill out the cast of Wicked.

Blaine let out a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re here doing laundry. I already know you’re better than him.”

Kurt smiled, something told him to give Blaine a try, so he nodded. He stood up and looked at Blaine.

“Alright, mister. You got yourself 35 minutes and the right to buy me coffee. Sell me.” He winked, walking past Blaine. He did not notice the other man's cheeks turn red


	5. Apartment Possibility: One Med. Drip & One Non. Fat Mocha $7.90

Blaine waited in line as Kurt chose a table. No doubts crossed his mind as he ordered their drinks, or as he carried the hot drinks back to the table and sat down. He decided that he had nothing to be worried about. Kurt would say no, thinking he is crazy and deranged. Or, Kurt would say yes and he’d get to finally be free of his second awful living situation, and live with a man who at least looked clean. Blaine crossed his legs, picked up his coffee, and took a sip before letting his eyes meet Kurt’s.

“I have a lot to say, and I guess I’ll start at the beginning. My name is Blaine Anderson. I moved to New York for school, and I’m in my second year at Tisch. I have a full ride scholarship for their Music program, but I’m planning to double major as a teacher.” He started, and saw Kurt immediately sit up, his full attention on Blaine.

“I go to NYADA,” Kurt stated. “Musical Theater.” He waved Blaine on to continue.

“So I was in my high school show choir, and I was invited to audition for Tisch. After one of their scouts saw a performance, Tisch offered me a full ride scholarship. It was always a dream of mine to one day move to New York, so I took it.” Kurt nodded along as Blaine continued.  “The thought of living in a big city with no limits really intrigued me. After all, I’m originally from a small town. I moved from Ohio, Westerville to be exact.” Kurt nearly choked on his drink Blaine watched Kurt put the cup down and push it away from him.

“No way,” Kurt interrupted, obviously surprised by something Blaine had said. “I’m from Lima! I’ve heard of Westerville - I could swear we performed against them for Regionals… The Water Birds?”

“The Warblers,” Blaine corrected, and he couldn't help but smile. Kurt was also in show choir. They obviously shared an interest in music as well as in having a nice place to live. “I was their lead singer once.”

“Oh my gosh.  _ YOU _ are  _ him _ ? I thought you looked somewhat familiar but I thought it must have been from seeing you at the laundromat. You guys were amazing. I was part of the New Directions, we competed against your choir in my third year!” Kurt was gushing, and Blaine knew his own face would be bright red from the complements.

“The nude erectio-OH” Blaine felt his face flush, and chuckled. “The New Directions. I remember. You guys pulled out all the original songs and won.” He looked at Kurt in amazement. They definitely had more in common than two strangers that shared the same laundromat.

“Yes, yes we did. Although we didn’t get too much further in the competition season, my brother and his girlfriend at the time ruined Nationals by kissing on stage. It was a terrible loss, but that's another story for later. I can’t believe you’re from Ohio,” Kurt said, shaking his head.

“I can’t believe we actually met in passing and I don’t remember you. It was my second year at Dalton when we performed against your group. And that would make you, twenty now?” Blaine asked and Kurt nodded.

“Twenty and somehow managing school, a part time job, and New York’s crazy lifestyle.” Kurt smiled. This mock-interview was going very well; Blaine seemed hopeful. Watching Kurt light up to certain questions made Blaine think he maybe had a real shot at a new living situation.

“Well, I’m nineteen and fumbling to get my feet settled. It feels like since I’ve been here I’ve been running at full pace with school. My first year I was very lucky to still have support from my parents and a scholarship to aid in the costs of school, just unlucky to find dormitories a living hell. Now, that I’m in second year I’ll have to look into getting an internship and out of my current even worse roommate scenario. You said you have a part time job?” Blaine asked curiously

“Yes, well it’s an internship. I work at Vogue, and the offices are in the new World Trade Center.” Blaine gasped, looking astonished at Kurt, but Kurt waved the comment away as if it wasn't one of the most amazing things Blaine had heard someone so young accomplishing.

“You work at Vogue?” Blaine said. “That’s amazing! I notice doing laundry you have a collection of quality brand clothing, but to work in fashion and for Vogue. That is amazing. Congratulations!”

“Thank you.” Kurt preened. “Most of the guys I grew up with didn’t know what Vogue was. Although it’s obviously better in New York, so thank you. But I’ve seen your laundry, your taste in clothes is certainly very respectable.” Kurt smiled at Blaine, and then paused. “I’ll tell you what Blaine. If you’re interested, I can call the landlord and get a second viewing of the apartment. If someone hasn’t scooped it up already.”

Blaine bounced out of his seat, reaching across and grabbing Kurt’s hand in a handshake.

“I would love that Kurt. Really. Thank you. You won't regret this!”


	6. Apartment Rented: $1650/Month each, 2. Large bedrooms, roof deck, laundry in unit

When Blaine had said yes, he had never expected things to work out so perfectly. Two weeks had gone by since they’d moved in together and he was very happy living with Kurt. They got along brilliantly, each of them taking on their share of the chores without asking, and both of them doing their best to make the apartment feel comfortable.

Blaine settled into his weekly routine with Kurt easily. They sometimes shared meals, but usually each cooked for themselves during the week. They were both up early most days; Blaine for classes and Kurt for work or school. They enjoyed similar taste in music, and the apartment was full of songs whenever they were home. Occasionally Kurt would even join Blaine in singing along to his favorite top forty songs.

But Blaine was only still learning the best thing to come from living with Kurt, like Kurt made the best hot chocolate and cookies. Blaine tried to return the favour, and hadn't been shy showing Kurt his own cooking skills, making his grandma’s ratatouille and meatloaf for dinners when they were both home. Blaine had never expected to like his roommate so much that he’d consider him a friend. Kurt had seemed great before they moved in together, but he hadn't expected Kurt to be the ideal roommate. Kind, clean, quiet, yet still willing to talk and watch silly TV shows. He hadn’t expected him to be open to sing along movie nights, or have the voice of an angel. He had really only expected Kurt to be clean and friendly, yet each and every day Kurt surprised him.  

One day, Blaine arrived home from school early to find Kurt in the kitchen wearing nothing but boxers. Music was playing throughout the house, only slightly drowning out the noise of their in-apartment washing machine. Kurt was moving along to the beat, his hips swaying as he mixed something in a bowl. Blaine felt his stomach do a flip as he checked out his roommate’s nearly naked body. The muscles on Kurt’s bare torso, his broad muscular shoulders and oh-

“Is that a tattoo?”

Blaine froze at the same time Kurt did. He hadn’t meant to say those words out loud, nor interrupt Kurt dancing in the kitchen in nothing but his underwear. They were both bright red as Kurt turned, dropping the spatula onto the floor.

“Oh my god! Blaine!” He screeched, booking it into the bathroom, only to come out with a housecoat tied tight around his waist, his cheeks bright red, his body covered from Blaine’s prying eyes. The red of Kurt’s blush seemed to go down his neck and onto his chest. Blaine tried not to imagine that Kurt’s chest would be as toned as his back.  “Why on earth didn’t you tell me you were coming home early!”

“I’m sorry,” Blaine mumbled his cheeks bright red, his eyes anywhere but on his roommate.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your -” Blaine waved his hand, not really sure what Kurt had been up to. Cooking without clothes on was not a hobby Blaine was aware his new roommate had.

“Interrupting my laundry baking day?” Kurt asked as he leaned down to pick up the spatula and wash it off in the sink.

“Your…what?” Blaine asked. He was feeling flustered, trying to shake the image of Kurt’s pale skin out of his head.

“My laundry baking day. Every Friday I get off work early and I usually go to the laundromat, but now we have laundry here I figured I would have time to do my laundry and make cookies before you come home,” Kurt explained, looking at Blaine and lifting the cookie tray, as if it was an explanation enough. “I wasn’t expecting company, but you can come help if you’d like?”

Blaine nodded, slowly coming to his senses as he walked towards the kitchen sink. “D-do you always bake in your underwear?” He asked, feeling his cheeks heat up as he washed his hands under the cold water. Noticing Kurt scoff, placing a hand on his chest in a  gesture of mock-offence.

“No. I usually am at least wearing pants. However, I managed to spill flour on my last set of clean pants. I had only just started my laundry and wasn’t expecting company any time soon. I figured since you weren't home to care -”

“I don’t care -” Blaine interrupted, and immediately regretted the words. He could feel Kurt’s gaze on him, as if burrowing into his soul and discovering just how much he had been staring. He’d already dug his hole this deep, Blaine sighed, and decided he might as well keep digging. “You’re a good looking man, Kurt. I’m very much single and don’t mind at all if you want to go walking around our house, undressed. You know I’m gay, I know you’re gay. It’s just that I don’t mean to gawk but you’re rather hot, and it’s been a while since I’ve seen someone so brazenly undressed.”

Blaine swallowed and saw Kurt's face change into that of surprise. Blaine knew that they hadn’t exactly had the discussion of their comfortability with clothing, or lack thereof, inside  the apartment. Kurt raised his eyebrow, before replying

“Well, good. Because for the next 45 minutes until my laundry dries, I have no pants. I’d rather a gay man stare, it means I at least have a shot. It also means I’m doing something right.” Kurt winked, going back to rolling out the dough, handing some to Blaine to do the same.

“And yes, I do have a tattoo,” Kurt said, answering Blaine’s earlier question.

He went on to tell Blaine the story of how he and Rachel had gotten tattoos in their first year in New York, and Blaine listened as they worked together, baking cookies. Later, they sat on the couch, eating the fresh baked cookies and watching a re-run of America’s Next Top Model. It wasn’t until Kurt’s phone timer went off, and he stood up to go get his laundry that Blaine realized how serious a mistake he had made.

Blaine had moved in with a man he really liked. Kurt Hummel wasn’t just a clean, kind roommate. Kurt was charming and handsome. Blaine watched Kurt carry an armload of washing from the dryer to his bedroom, and realized that he didn't just like Kurt. The blood that had made his cheeks red was certainly causing a different distraction as he watched Kurt dressed only in a robe and boxers, dart into his bedroom,  white calf flashing from under the fabric’s loose confines. Blaine had a crush on his roommate. It no longer mattered that the rent was cheap, nor that the place was indeed perfect. Blaine was undeniably falling for Kurt.

Blaine wanted to keep his new sprung crush secret, and he was pretty good at it, at least at first. It had been three days since he had walked in on a nearly naked Kurt, and their relationship as roommates had remained completely normal. But each time they talked it felt like Blaine learned something new about Kurt that only contributed to his growing unrequited crush. It also had been three days since Blaine had seen Kurt’s muscular back, and as much as he hated to admit it, he only wanted to see more.

It was a Monday afternoon, and Blaine wasn’t expecting Kurt home soon at any time, so he turned on the TV, and went about doing some household chores. Together, they kept a pretty clean house, and he only really needed to wipe down the kitchen counter and dust the table before realizing there wasn’t much to do. Blaine hated feeling bored, so he went into his own room looking around for something to do. His eyes fell on his own, half-filled laundry basket and sighed. He added in his bedsheets, and all of the towels from the bathroom and kitchen. He turned on the machine, and wandered back to the fridge, grabbing a can of beer and flipping through the channels. He smiled as he found a football game on, knowing Kurt wasn’t home to complain, he cracked open the can and went to take a sip of beer, only to have his phone startle him into missing his mouth completely.

After hanging up on the telemarketer, he looked down at his t-shirt to assess the damage. The beer was salvageable, but his shirt was not. He walked back to the washing machine, throwing in his shirt before heading back to the TV.

Blaine awoke to Kurt shaking his shoulder. He blinked a couple of times before slowly sitting up.

“W-wha?” 

“Good afternoon to you to.” Kurt smiled at him, and Blaine swallowed a dry gulp. “I arrived home to find you passed out on the couch, and the washing machine beeping,” Kurt said. “I figured I’d move your things into the dryer to help you out. I also figured I’d start making dinner, but that didn’t seem to wake you up either. Would you like some food?”

Blaine rubbed his eyes, looking at the clock, nodding as Kurt spoke to him.

“Oh-wow. It’s like… late?”

Kurt chuckled. “Only 7 o’clock. How long have you been asleep?”

“I got home around three thirty. I swore I only just turned the football game on, I must have fallen asleep right away. Thanks for waking me up.” Kurt smiled, and Blaine's stomach growled. He could start to smell the food Kurt had been referring to. It smelled of melted cheese and tomato sauce. “Is – is that lasagna?” Blaine asked turning his head towards the kitchen.

Kurt laughed. “Come on, sleepy head. Let’s get you some food.”


	7. Back on the Rack: $1.75 Wash, $2.50 Dry

Kurt was furious. It had only been one month in the apartment and already things were going wrong with the place. There were no mice, there was no hair clogging the sink, but things were breaking.

First, it had been the freezer, no longer staying at its set temperature and warming up so that all their frozen food had to be thrown out. Second, had been his beloved toaster oven. It had short circuited and there was no repair that would save its scorched plug socket. Bad things had a tendency of happening in threes, and the third was the worst. The third was the reason Kurt was standing back in his old laundromat waiting for his and Blaine’s laundry. Their washing machine had somehow died on them. The landlord assured them they’d replace it quickly, yet here Kurt stood, foot tapping as the cycle buzzed to its end.

One thing that was definitely not going wrong was his roommate. Blaine, his dear, sweet roommate, was something he couldn’t complain about.

Blaine was very clean, very quiet, and also very good company. He would listen, and actually care about what Kurt had to say. He was there in the mornings to wish him a good day, and there in the evenings to ask how his day had been. Blaine also liked to touch. It was a simple thing Kurt hadn’t been aware of previously about himself, but Blaine's love for physical reassurance made something in Kurt feel lighter. The constant arm brushing, a hand on his shoulder, or the incidental pressure of Blaine's body pressed against his when they watched TV didn’t feel like an intrusion of space but instead a reassurance. It was nice to feel as if someone in the big city of New York cared for Kurt Hummel.

Yes, Kurt really did enjoy living with Blaine. It was one of many reasons he had volunteered to do their laundry, as Blaine had an interview for an apprenticeship at a nearby music school. The thought of Blaine could almost always take Kurt out of an angry mood, and into one of longing. He had always wished to find that someone in New York. In Lima he had been restricted to a very shallow dating pool. He was after all, the only out kid in his high school at the time. In New York, it was as if he had been thrown into the deep end with no one there to swim beside him.

Kurt had tried dating, but nothing had ever worked out. There was a guy from his school, who was sweet but really they didn’t click; a model from vogue, where Kurt very quickly learned to never mix dating and work. After just one date rumours started to spread, and Kurt decided to cut that attempt short. There were a few other random dates here and there, but no one that made Kurt feel the way Blaine did. Blaine was different. Blaine was also his roommate, and that’s where Kurt had decided to draw the line. He could not, would not, pursue his roommate no matter what his heart told him.

The buzzing of the washing machine coming to the end of its cycle dragged Kurt out of his thoughts and into work mode. He comfortably fell into the routine of finishing and folding the laundry. It was something to keep him busy, and he enjoyed the mundane task. Anything to distract him from his crush on someone he would never be able to pursue. His crush who was probably killing the interview for the teaching position with his compliments and always positive attitude. His crush who dressed in button up t-shirts and bowties. A crush who owned too many pairs of coloured pants, yet suited all of them so well.  Kurt was pulling out another load of Blaine’s laundry, when a thong fell from the pile. It was bright red, and not discreet in the slightest. Kurt picked it up, feeling his cheeks heat up. At first when it fell he thought it had been womens' lingerie, but now with the silk fabric under his hands it was clear that the bright red thong was indeed made for a man. Kurt held the thong by one of its strings, imagining just how it would be of any use on Blaine’s ass when the bell above the laundromat door chimed and a familiar voice filled the air.

“Kurt, I got it! Can you believe it? They stopped the interview early and told me I got the job. I can’t believe - you're holding my thong?” Blaine's voice went from loud and excited, to a low whisper. His eyes darted around the laundromat, then to Kurt. Kurt swallowed trying to get his thoughts in order, but his mouth beat his brain to it.

“This is  _ your _ thong.” It wasn’t a question. Kurt raised his eyes from the soft fabric in his fingers to Blaine. Blaine who was standing right in front of him, cheeks bright red, eyes wide. Blaine, who was wearing tight pants, and would possibly be wearing a thong underneath them right now while they were talking. Kurt could picture the thong against Blaine’s tan skin, the bulge that was outlined by Blaine's pants would be more defined by the lack of fabric that the thong provided. It was a delicious thought in Kurt’s head. A thought only amplified by Blaine’s admission that he wore it.

Blaine fumbled to find words as they stood in the laundromat in a shared stunned silence.

“It-it was a prank gift” Blaine eventually managed to say, reaching out and taking the thong from Kurt’s hand. The motion seemed to get Kurt to move, and focus back on moving their laundry over to a dryer, resuming the task at hand. “It was a prank gift someone gave me as a going away present,” Blaine explained. “I had it in my closet for the longest of times but it's unbelievably comfortable, and freeing.” Kurt whacked his head on the dryer at Blaine’s words, cursing as he rubbed his head. Blaine looked at him sheepishly. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. Fine. Go on,” Kurt said, his hand reaching out for the thong in discussion, motioning to the nearly full dryer.

“I am sorry. I’m sorry you had to find it and deal with it. I didn’t mean to expose you to, well, my  _ thong _ ,” he whispered, shy but maybe a little flirty? Kurt couldn’t help but chuckle, Blaine being so bashful was cute, even endearing.

“It’s okay. I just didn’t expect to find something so delicate in your laundry.”

“You should really try them, Kurt. They are very comfortable,” Blaine said, his cheeks still bright red.

“No. No thank you. I’m quite content in my boxers and briefs, thank you ever so much.” Kurt closed the door of the dryer and inserted money into the machine.

“Oh, so you’re a both-man.”

“I’m a what?” Kurt said, staring at Blaine. Now the laundry was in the dryer, he could focus all his attention on his roommate in front of him. His  _ thong-wearing  _ roommate.

“A both-man. You like boxers and briefs,” Blaine explained, rubbing the back of his neck. Blaine always seemed to touch his neck when nervous; a twitch Kurt had noticed his roommate seemed to have when he was especially nervous.

“I am not discussing underwear habits with you, Blaine.” He said as he turned and walked to the waiting chairs, knowing Blaine would follow.

“And why not?” Blaine asked, as he sat on an old, worn chair beside Kurt

“Because. I may wear boxers, I may wear briefs, or I may wear nothing at all, but I certainly do not wear thongs.” He looked at Blaine and winked. Blaine bashfully ducked his head, his cheeks turning red again. Oh, Kurt was certainly not going to drop this anytime soon. It was too much fun to mess with Blaine and see him turn red.

“They’re really not that bad, Kurt. They aren’t just made for women you know.”

“Oh, I realize that. I have been asked many times to input my design flair on some male thongs. They just aren’t exactly for me,” Kurt said, looking at Blaine. “I meant no offense. I just didn’t expect that from you,” Kurt said honestly, placing a hand on Blaine’s knee.

“It doesn’t make me any less masculine. Nor does it make me more feminine. It just makes my ass look great,” Blaine said softly. “They just happened to be comfortable underwear and look great. Well, at least in my opinion they look great on me. I’m sure they’d look great on you,” Blaine spoke his thought aloud, then realized with pure horror what he had just said to his roommate. Blaine slapped a hand over his mouth as Kurt stared at Blaine with wide eyes.

“Is that so?” Kurt said, his voice unwavering as he raised an eyebrow. Watching Blaine become even more flustered. He could feel his roommate tense his muscles under his hand, and looked to see Blaine sheepishly nod.

“Everything looks good on you,” Blaine admitted softly, and Kurt smiled at the compliment. God, all he wanted to do was kiss the worry away from Blaine’s features and replace it with a smile. Kurt pulled away, removing his hand from Blaine’s knee, patting him on the shoulder instead before keeping his hands to himself. No, he couldn’t kiss the man beside him. Blaine was his roommate, and that’s a line he would not cross.


	8. Apartment for Rent: $1250 1 bed, West Village. Need new roommate STAT

Blaine was sitting on the couch of Kurt’s and his apartment, reading over an advertisement for a different apartment over for what felt to be the seventh time that day. Blaine had offered to help out his best friend, Sam, find a new roommate. Sam’s roommate had packed up and left New York with no notice, and Sam really needed a new roommate if he was going to be able to stay in New York. Since Blaine had a positive experience with finding a roommate in New York, he’d been the first person Sam had turned to for advice. The two of them sat on the sofa, reading over the listing for the extra room in Sam’s current apartment.

“How many different ways can you really say please rent this room, I need to live here” Sam complained, as Blaine switched out a photo of the kitchen to one at a slightly better angle. Rereading the ad one more time before giving his friend a smile and a thumbs up sign.

“Submitted,” Sam mumbled as he clicked the Submit button and Blaine patted his friend on the back.

“There you go, Sam. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Words of advice from the man who has told me every single horror story he has about bad roommates.” Sam sighed as the door to the apartment closed, and Kurt stood there, arms crossed over his chest.

“Bad roommate, huh?” Kurt’s voice filled the apartment, silencing Sam instantly.

“Oh please, tell me all of your stories about your current bad roommate.” Kurt looked at Blaine, eyebrow raised, hips cocked to an angle. His tone a condescending tease. Blaine stood, crossing the room to greet his roommate, putting a hand on Kurt’s shoulder.

“Not you. I swear I wasn’t talking about you. You’re a good roommate. The best roommate” Blaine smiled reassuringly.

“Sam, this is Kurt, my current roommate. Kurt, this is my best friend, Sam. Sam is in the same housing crisis we were in a few months back. His roommate bailed on him, leaving a hefty rent to pay all by himself.”

Sam stood up, crossing the room to offer Kurt a hand-shake.

“Nice to meet you, Kurt. Blaine only ever says good things about you. How you’re a good cook. How you’re good at keeping the place clean. How good you look. How good you look naked- hey!” Sam yelped as Blaine smacked his friend on the arm, giving Sam a side-eye. “I better get going” Sam said, realizing the awkward silence his statement had caused. “Bye!” Sam darted around the apartment, grabbing up his laptop and bag, before heading out of the front door.

Kurt stared at Blaine, his eyes wide. Blaine had learned a lot about Kurt since they’d been roommates, but this expression seemed like something new. The room was so quiet that the noise of the neighbours TV filtered into their living room.

“Are you offended?” Blaine asked, breaking the awkward silence that had filled the room. Hoping to see Kurt smile, or laugh, or shrug it off like he usually would. Kurt did none of those things.

“You talk about how good I look naked?” Kurt asked. Blaine felt his heart sink into his stomach as he nodded.  “You saw me naked once, and yet talk about it?” Kurt’s voice went higher on the reply, and Blaine knew he’d offended him, he rubbed his hand down Kurt’s arm trying to soothe his flustered roommate.

“I can explain -”

“Oh. It better be good Anderson,” Kurt said. Blaine looked into his roommates eyes to find them welling up with tears. Kurt never used his last name unless he had really done something wrong. The last time Kurt had used his last name was when he accidently put too much detergent in the washing machine and flooded the floor of their apartment with soap. This time was different. This time, it was Kurt being hurt over something so close to Blaine’s heart it pained Blaine to keep it a secret. Blaine loved Kurt. He couldn’t keep it secret, not if it hurt the man he’d fallen in love with.

“I have only told Sam about how good you look, and I might have admitted to him that I like how you look naked. I like you, Kurt. I’m sorry, I know it’s not appropriate but you’re very attractive. I find you very attractive, smart, and witty. I  _ like  _ you, Kurt. I don’t just mean that I like you as a roommate. I don’t just mean I like you as a friend. Although you are both an amazing roommate and friend, the truth is I have a huge crush on you. I tell Sam everything about you because he knows just how smitten I am with you. I really like you.” Blaine took a shaky breath, looking away from Kurt. “I realize I’ll probably have to move out – maybe I can move in with Sam, he’s got space now. Hopefully it’ll make things less awkward so we can at least somehow be friends still.”

“Blaine, what are you talking about?” Kurt asked, and Blaine looked up, into Kurt’s bright blue eyes. “You are not moving out.”

“I-I’m not?” Blaine stuttered, shocked. He looked at Kurt, his roommate seemed to transform from once being close to tears to wearing a confident smile.

“No. I can’t afford this place on my own, and I can’t afford to pass up an opportunity with you.” Kurt smiled, stepping closer to Blaine.

“What?” Blaine asked confused, looking up at Kurt.

“I like you too,” Kurt explained, his cheeks turning red.

“Oh,” Blaine gasped. He raised his hand, placing it gently on Kurt’s cheek, searching Kurt’s eyes for any apprehension. “I really want to kiss you, Kurt.”

“Prove it,” Kurt whispered, as he stepped closer to Blaine, closing the distance between them. Their lips crashed together, and Blaine had to reach up to capture Kurt’s face in his hands. What he had expected to be a peck on the lips seemed like it would never end.  Blaine pulled back, smiling widely as he looked at Kurt.

“This is okay?”

“More than okay,” Kurt replied, pulling Blaine back closer to kiss him again. It felt like an eternity wrapped in Kurt’s arms, and Blaine could wish for nothing more. It was Kurt who pulled away from the kiss this time, resting his forehead against Blaine’s. They were both flushed and breathless, and the room seemed way hotter than it had just moments ago.

“Please tell me you won’t be moving out,” Kurt said softly, his eyes meeting Blaine’s.

“I won’t be going anywhere,” Blaine promised, taking Kurt’s hand into his. “Not without you.”

Kurt smiled, squeezing Blaine’s hand.

“Well, how about I take you out on a date?” Kurt asked, and Blaine nodded. 

“I would love that, Kurt.”

Together, they walked hand in hand out of their apartment, taking a step into the corridor as something more than roommates. Neither of them faltered as they looked at each other and smiled.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again,
> 
> Thank you to my lovely beta @slayediest for making this fic a reality.
> 
> The fic was based around the prompt:  
> Kurt and Blaine don't know each other. They're both two people living their lives in New York City, chasing their dreams, and trying to find an apartment that doesn't have a severe infestation of rodents and bugs. But sometimes they run into each other at the laundromat. It's there that their friendship, and eventual romance, blossoms, as they get to know each other between loads of whites, colors, and occasionally delicate


End file.
